


the first time went like this

by toxica939



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 15:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19321213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: “But, anal,” Basile points out, waving his crusts around. “That's your thing, right?”“My thing?”“Yeah. Gay guys do anal all the time."“That's true,” Yann says.Lucas keeps his mouth shut, even when they go back to talking about things he's absolutely sure Daphne would not want him to know about her sex life.But it does get him thinking.ORLucas' first time wasn't in the foyer, it wasn't even that night on the boat, the first time went like this...





	the first time went like this

Eliott's waiting for him when he gets off the bus, leant up against the railings with his legs crossed at the ankle, chin drawn to one side while he watches the traffic. He's so good looking it's almost ridiculous, Lucas can't get over it.

He watches two girls walk by, turning to look back at Eliott and slapping at each other's arms, jaws gone slack. Lucas gets it, he'd looked twice too. More than twice, even. He hasn't figured out how to look away yet. One of the girls manages to grab her friend before she walks into an on coming bus shelter.

Eliott's face lights up when he spots Lucas, which is gratifying. It's a little bit like basking in the sun, having that smile turned on him, and Lucas squeezes his fingers tight around the straps of his bag so he doesn't do something embarrassing, like launch himself at Eliott in front of this morning's unlucky commuters.

“Hey!” Eliott says, and then his hands are on Lucas' face, kiss smacking against his lips.

Lucas blinks at him, stunned. He always feels stunned around Eliott these days, a weird mixture of giddy and dreamily content. It's incredibly uncool. He watches a bird pecking around a rubbish bin until his stomach settles.

“Hi,” Lucas manages as they fall into step together, Eliott's arm slung around his shoulders.

The girls from earlier are gawping at them from the stop across the road and Lucas can't help but preen a little. He manages to stop himself slipping a hand into the pocket of Eliott's jeans though, there's no need to be a dick about it.

“Are we doing something tonight?” Eliott's asking, jostling at Lucas. He keeps pressing random kisses to Lucas' hair like he can't help himself and it's doing unsettling things to Lucas' central nervous system.

“We can do something,” Lucas says. “I'm pretty sure my place is free tonight, actually.”

Eliott grins at him, eyebrows up. “Yeah?”

Lucas knows that look.

It makes his heart thump, cheeks gone hot. “Yeah,” he says, hates that he's gone a bit breathless with it, that he can't do anything to stop that.

They're outside school now, and Eliott stops, turns Lucas back against the low wall, arms draped over his shoulders. “So I should come over?” he asks, eyes dancing.

There's a hurricane in Lucas' chest, whipping at him. “If you want.”

Eliott's mouth is so wide; sharp edges and chapped lips, the pink of his tongue behind his teeth. Most people probably think it's Eliott's eyes you have to watch out for, but Lucas knows better. It's a weapon, that mouth.

Eliott dips in for a kiss, tongue swiping over Lucas', pulling away before Lucas can get his hands on him. He backs off too quickly, leaves Lucas wavering there, untethered.

“I'll see you tonight then,” Eliott tells him, a curl at the corner of that dangerous mouth.

Lucas nods, spreads his hands agaisnt the brick behind him, just for something steady to touch.

:::

Lucas is poking half heartedly at his salad when the boys descend, Basile gesticulating wildly.

“So then I suggested anal, you know?” he's saying, like the cafeteria isn't full of people. “I thought she was going to slap me.”

Arthur's laughing. “Tell me you didn't just say it like that.”

“How else was I supposed to say it?”

Lucas resists the urge to put his head in his hands.

Yann shakes his head. “You have to ease into it-”

“That's what she said,” Arthur interjects, and they all fall about laughing.

Lucas wishes quietly for death. “Do we have to talk about your sex life every time I'm trying to eat?” he asks.

Basile pauses, sandwich hanging out of his mouth. Lucas can see his half chewed food. “What?”

Arthur smooths a comforting hand over Lucas' shoulder. “Do lady parts not do it for you any more, dude?”

Lucas glares at him.

“But, anal,” Basile points out, waving his crusts around. “That's your thing, right?”

“My thing?”

“Yeah. Gay guys do anal all the time.”

“That's true,” Yann says.

Lucas keeps his mouth shut, even when they go back to talking about things he's absolutely sure Daphne would not want him to know about her sex life.

But it does get him thinking.

:::

It's not as though their first times so far have always gone perfectly. The first time Lucas gave Eliott a blow job he'd gagged hard enough to make his eyes water. Eliott had had to pat him on the back and everything. But he's a fast learner, everyone knows that, and practice makes perfect. He knows now; how to use his tongue, when to press and when to hold back, knows to listen for the hitches in Eliott's breath, what makes his hands tighten in Lucas' hair, what makes them go slack. What makes Eliott _give_. These days, if Eliott's got enough beer in him, he'll happily wax lyrical about Lucas' mouth to anyone who will listen.

Lucas isn't worried about it being bad, is what he's saying. And it's not like they haven't done everything else. He's had Eliott's mouth in places he'd never even thought about having a mouth before. And it's all been good. Great even. Better than great. Lucas gets hot all over just thinking about it.

But they still haven't done...that.

And he's not sure why. But he knows that he wants to.

:::

Eliott's got him spread out on the couch, knee planted between Lucas' thighs to give him something to ride, elbows at Lucas' ears, hands in his hair. It spreads goosebumps every time Eliott curls his fingers, nails scratching just right at Lucas' scalp while their mouths work together.

It's a late afternoon now, the flat blissfully empty and echoing with their panting breaths, every wet inhale too loud in the quiet.

Lucas lies there, content to be kissed, one elbow crooked around Eliott's neck to keep him close. He wraps a leg over Eliott's hip for good measure, socked foot rubbing down his calf.

He's rocking a low level hard on, and it sparks whenever Eliott's thigh makes contact, keeps him keyed up, body buzzing with it. There's no urgency to this, he could probably lie here all day, just happy to feel the weight of Eliott covering him, holding him down. Do nothing more than breathe.

His mouth is starting to feel sloppy, chin gone hot and numb from the rub of Eliott stubble. But it's not enough to turn his head, even if he wouldn't mind Eliott scraping his way down his neck. He opens his mouth wider, rubs his tongue over Eliott's, across the points of his canine teeth, everything slick, and wet, and ever expanding inside his chest.

Eliott has this tendency, always has, to crush their mouths together; tight, like he can't bear the thought of any space existing between them. Lucas likes to slow him down, make it soft and wet, tangle their tongues together in the space between breaths, lips gone blood-hot and catching here and there.

It's like a game, sometimes, getting his hands on Eliott's face, holding him back. Lucas thinks he likes it like that, when Lucas takes what he wants.

Now, the world has disappeared, maybe. Maybe it's just the two of them. Maybe nothing else exists except for the crush of Eliott's ribs against his, and the hitch of Eliott's hips, and the hot rush across Lucas' cheek from every breath Eliott exhales. Maybe this is all there is. What else could he possibly need anyway?

Lucas remembers the first time they did this, with a startling clarity that hadn't felt possible at the time, when everything had been dreamy around the edges and so impossibly possible in its newness. Years of pent up teenage frustration bubbling at all of his seams. Eliott had wrecked him. Kissed him in the rain and then melted him across Manon's sheets and kissed him again, and again, until Lucas' mouth had felt like it was changed, like the shape of Eliott against him had moulded new planes and dips to his body.

It had, in a way. Nothing has ever been the same since that night. He'd never known what it was like to do this with more than just his mouth before. Hadn't even realised his heart and his body could beat in time.

Eliott tears his mouth away, breath scalding on Lucas' face. He's smiling, hands smoothing Lucas' hair back from his face.

“You're so beautiful,” Eliott says, eyes liquid, chin red.

Lucas blushes, like he always does, under the attention. “Shut up.”

It makes Eliott smile, drop another kiss to Lucas' pursed lips.

Eliott wriggles a bit, weight settling more heavily on Lucas. He oofs for show, but it's nice, so he spreads a hand between Eliott's shoulder blades to keep him there.

“This is nice,” Eliott tells him, knocking the tips of their noses together.

“Yeah. It's been ages since we've had the place to ourselves.”

A wet kiss at the hinge of Lucas' jaw. “Not that that usually stops us.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. It's nice. I like being alone with you.”

Eliott says stuff like that all the time, like he doesn't even know he's being romantic. It makes Lucas go soft in the centre of his chest. Makes him feel brave.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, actually,” he says.

Eliott's brow wrinkles. “That sounds ominous.”

“Nothing bad.”

Eliott still looks wary. “Okay. Should I move?”

“No!” Lucas clutches him tighter, in case he tries, clamps his knees at Eliott's hips. He's not sure he can get this out if they put any more space between them. It sounds ridiculous enough in his head, god knows what it'll sound like out loud.

When Lucas doesn't say anything else, Eliott sighs, thumb stoking Lucas' cheek, a gentle press against the corner of his eye. “You're sort of freaking me out,” he says, but gently, like he thinks Lucas needs careful handling.

“Sorry,” Lucas gathers his nerve. “I want to have sex. I want us to have sex. If you want to,” he revises, because consent is important.

If anything, Eliott looks more lost than before. “Okay? Sex is good.”

He's not getting it, is he? For fuck's sake. He spends all his time reading Lucas' mind, giving Lucas things he didn't even know he wanted, and this is the time he picks to draw a blank?

“Actual sex,” he says, which sounds ridiculous, but he's not saying anal, this is bad enough already, he absolutely cannot say anal right now.

Eliott's eyes are searching his face, flickering so fast Lucas can actually see the cogs turning. He's about five seconds away from kissing his dignity goodbye and pantomiming it with his fingers when Eliott's eyebrows shoot up.

“You mean anal?”

Of course he'd be able to say it.

Lucas looks out the window over Eliott's shoulder, he can only see the sky from this angle, chalk white and empty. It makes his eyes ache. He nods.

“If you can't say it, you probably shouldn't do it,” Eliott says, and Lucas can hear the teasing grin in his voice without looking.

He hates how well Eliott knows how to rile him, hates that it always works. He rolls his eyes and meets Eliott's gaze head on. “I want you to fuck me,” he says, and he knows he probably looks like he's about to start a fight, but he means it as well.

Eliott goes still, and then his breath shudders out of him. “Fuck.”

“That's what I said.”

“You want that?”

Lucas nods. “I do,” it's easier to talk about now it's not just in his head.

Eliott groans, leans up to kiss Lucas again, one of those fast firm ones that finally loosens the tension from Lucas' shoulders. It's not really like he'd been expecting to get show down or anything, but it's nice to know Eliott's into it too.

He loses himself again for a bit, between the weight of Eliott and the slick rub of their tongues together. It's enough to get his body moving, restless in Eliott's hold.

He wants this.

He's gasping when Eliott starts kissing down his neck. “I want you fuck me,” he says again, doesn't even mean to, but it's been playing on a loop in his head since he said it the first time, pushing against his teeth to get out.

Eliott rears back, cold air and reality crashing in. “Hold on, you mean now?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “No, not now.”

Maybe now, now could work.

It must show on his face, because Eliott's softens, his whole body softens actually, and his hands cup Lucas' face like he's something precious, something to be cherished. “It's kind of a big deal,” Eliott says, soft.

That's true and it isn't. “Is it?” Lucas asks. “We've done everything else.”

Eliott exhales, amused. “We really, really haven't. But that's not the point. I just mean,” he shrugs, awkward in that charming way most people don't expect someone with a face like Eliott's to be. “I never have before. And I'm assuming...”

Lucas gives him a look.

“Exactly. First time,” he shrugs his eyebrows, eyes sparkling. “Kind of a big deal.”

“It doesn't have to be.”

“No,” Eliott agrees, thumb sweeping arcs across Lucas' cheeks. “But I want it to be. We should do it right. Like, dinner and stuff. Candles.”

“Candles?”

“Shut up. You know what I mean; romance,” he looks down at Lucas' chest when he says it, even though Lucas is only wearing a blue t shirt.

“Romance,” Lucas repeats. He doesn't know why he's surprised, the first time Eliott took him on a date he broke into a fucking barge with a bottle of knock-off champage. And sure, the less said about that the better, probably, but romance is sort of his thing. Lucas isn't sure if it's his, he's never really thought of himself as a romantic kind of guy, too busy trying to get his dick hard at in bathrooms with nameless girls to think about romance before he met Eliott. But maybe he's coming around to the idea. Eliott deserves to be loved loudly.

“Okay,” he says. “I'm in. I'm going to romance the shit out of you.”

Eliott's face creases when he laughs, eyes disappearing, and Lucas is helpless but to join in.

Eliott starts kissing him again before they've even pulled themselves together, teeth smeared against Lucas' top lip.

“There's lots of things we could do until then, though,” Eliott points out, and his voice has gone to that dark, teasing place, the one that's made of smoke rings and the sound of Lucas' blood rushing in his ears in the dark.

Lucas twines his arms around Eliott's neck, flirts right back. “Oh yeah?”

He gets another kiss, Eliott's tongue flickering. “Yeah.”

:::

Mika's in the kitchen making breakfast. He's in nothing but a sagging pair of bright red underwear which still makes Lucas feel uncomfortable for reasons he doesn't want to examine.

Lucas leans a hip against the counter, watches two eggs sizzle in the pan. “Mika?”

Mika doesn't look up. “Yes baby?”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you have any plans on Friday night?”

A shrug. “A couple of possibilities. There's a guy I've been talking to, says he can suck a-”

“Mika. No.”

That makes him turn around, arms folding. “What are you really asking me, Lucas?”

“I have plans with Eliott,” Lucas says, as casually as he can manage. “It would be nice if we had the place to ourselves.”

Mika eyes him for a minute, that look that usually means Lucas is going to be the subject of intense mocking, but whatever he sees on Lucas' carefully blank face must make him soften. “There's probably a gathering I could talk Lisa into going to.”

Lucas nods. Perfect. “That's...that's great. Thank you.”

“Lucas,” Mika calls, halts him while he's making his escape.

Lucas doesn't look back. “Yeah?”

“Make him wear a condom.”

He's still cackling when Lucas slams his door shut on the noise.

:::

There's a candle flickering on the table between them, throwing long shadows up the walls. They're drinking red wine from thick cut glasses, all very grown up. Lucas can feel his cheeks burning with it.

Eliott takes a sip, eyes on Lucas over the rim of his glass. He's lit yellow and black by the light; dark pools under his brows and beneath each cheekbone. He looks like a painting. Like something someone dreamed up one time and brought to life.

Lucas gestures to the last slice of pizza, sitting sadly in the box at his elbow, puddling grease. “Do you want that?” he asks.

Eliott shakes his head, gaze steady. He blinks slowly, and Lucas gets caught up in the splay of his eyelashes when they fall. It's sort of embarrassing.

Lucas doesn't really want to eat any more either, but it seems a shame to leave just one slice.

Also he's stalling.

He doesn't even know why really. He's not nervous, not in a real way. There isn't a single thing him and Eliott have done together that Lucas hasn't enjoyed on some level. He knows Eliott loves him, knows he'll make it good, even if Lucas doesn't know how.

Eliott gives him that look, like Lucas is glass and Eliott can see right through him, read all the speech bubbles of half formed thoughts crashing around inside his head. “We don't have to do this tonight, you know?” Eliott says. “I know we talked about it, and dinner was great-”

“It was pizza.”

“It was great,” Eliott insists. “But if you're not ready. Or even if you are but you want to wait some more, that's...it's fine. I'm not expecting anything.”

Lucas had never thought that he was. “No,” he says, folding his hand over Eliott's on the table. “I want to. I just...don't know how to get there.”

“I can get you there,” Eliott says, and Lucas watches, rapt, as his eyes catch fire.

:::

It doesn’t hurt, not like he thought it might, too much lube to sting. But it’s uncomfortable, a sort of shocky, out of control feeling making his stomach swoop, knees shifting on the sheets even though that isn’t helping.

Eliott gets him by the hips, thumbs meeting at the base of Lucas’ spine, holds him still.

Lucas rolls his lips between his teeth to keep the sounds in, huffs breath out of his nose in stuttered little puffs. He can hear Eliott panting behind him. It’s not quite pained, he sounds almost as overwhelmed as Lucas feels right now.

He’s in now, all the way, as far inside Lucas as he can get but suddenly it all just feels wrong. This isn’t what he wants. He pushes up on his hands. “Wait, wait,” he says, rushes on before Eliott can get the wrong idea. “Let me turn over. I need to see you.”

Eliott’s breath stutters and his forehead drops to press between Lucas’ shoulder blades. “Oh thank god,” he says, words hot and damp across Lucas’ skin.

It takes them a while to reorganise themselves; Eliott between Lucas' raised knees, sweat damp faces pressed together, stealing kisses. It hurts a bit more, weirdly, when Eliott pushes in this time, does sting a little, like he's been rubbed raw already, but it's better, to be able to see the strain on Eliott's face, the way his eyes are glowing.

They pant at each other, hips tight together, while Lucas lets his body get used to the intrusion. It hurts and it doesn't. It feels good and it's doesn't. It's a lot.

Eliott kisses him again, sort of desperate and wetter than Eliott usually goes for, keeps on doing it. Lucas doesn't know how he always knows exactly the right way to get Lucas out of his own head. Lucas gets his hands in Eliott's hair, restless and tugging, keeps kissing until he starts to feel like he might burn up from the inside if Eliott doesn't move soon.

He knocks Eliott's ribs with his knee, has to push his head back into the pillow to put some space between their mouths. “Eliott, Eliott,” he gasps.

Eliott nods, like he's listening, like he already knows. And maybe he does, because his hips draw back a little, not all the way, and he starts rocking into Lucas, gentle, like water lapping at him, except not like that at all.

And it's still a weird feeling, still not quite as good as a fist around his dick, but it's good. It _is_ good. Eliott is _in_ him. That's blowing his mind.

Lucas holds on, tries to show his encouragement in the sweeping arcs of his palms over the bumps of Eliott's ribs, in the startled moans pushed from his chest every time Eliott presses forwards.

Eliott's mouth is a dark _o_ , two deep lines between his eyebrows, hair wilted down into his eyes. He's the hottest thing Lucas has ever seen, and it's enough to stiffen his dick back up where it's laying in the groove of his hip, knowing that Eliott looks like that because of him, that he did that, he's _doing_ that.

Eliott's rhythm slows a little when he catches Lucas watching him, and Lucas doesn't want that. He wants everything.

“Is it good?” Eliott asks, breathless, searching Lucas' face for something. “Is it okay?”

He fits a hand to Eliott's cheek. “Keep going,” he says. “Please. It's. Keep going.”

Eliott groans, slips an arm between the bed and the bow of Lucas’ back, lifts him up against him. It's even hotter like this, plastered together, Eliott's cock rocking in and out of him, every inch of it opening up places Lucas didn't know could feel this good. The pair of them heaving together like one body.

Eliott grazes over something stunning inside of him a couple of times, when his thrusts start to turn erratic, and Lucas gasps, whole body clenching up tight, soles of his feet burning. He's not an idiot, he knows what it was, tries to tilt his hips a little, to see if he can get that feeling back, but it doesn't happen.

Eliott lets go of him suddenly, pushes up on his hands, and Lucas can tell he's getting close. He makes an aborted attempt to get a hand around Lucas' dick but Lucas brushes him away. This is good enough, he wants it to keep feeling just like this, like he could fly right out of his skin. He wants to watch Eliott lose it, wants that more than anything.

“Come on,” he says, hands everywhere, puts that challenge in his voice he knows Eliott can't resist. “Do it, come on. I want it.”

Eliott's face is red, wet with sweat, neck corded and straining. He locks up when he comes, whole body gone still, except his hips, which roll in pulses with the tightening of his muscles.

He's coming inside Lucas. He's inside Lucas.

Eliott does get a hand down then, before Lucas has even processed that that happened, wraps his fist around Lucas dick and jerks him in quick little pulls, the kind that make Lucas scramble, edge rushing up out of nowhere. It doesn't take long, beyond the sting of Eliott slipping out of him. Lucas comes like a thunderclap; loud and sharp and echoing.

They flatten together on the bed, chests heaving. Lucas doesn't know if the heart battering against his ribs is his own or Eliott's. Isn't sure it matters any more.

“I love you,” Eliott says, tracing the lines of Lucas' cheekbones, his nose, his jaw, with those artist's fingers. “I meant to say that before I,” he looks Lucas in the eye. “I love you.”

Lucas feels undone. Shaking and empty and remade. “I love you too.”

:::

After, when they've washed up and dried off, Lucas curls up against Eliott's chest. Taps his restless fingers on Eliott's collarbone, down the middle of his chest, where the bone is hard and the skin is thin, and it thumps. He traces his name there, just because he can.

“So...that happened,” he says, to fill the silence.

Eliott laughs, cuddles Lucas closer with the arm around his back. “That definitely happened.”

“I liked it,” Lucas says, in case that wasn't clear. It doesn't feel like enough, but it's true.

Eliott presses a kiss to his hair. “Me too. I kind of...lost myself there for a minute.”

Lucas nods. “It's okay. I was there. It was perfect.”

He falls asleep to the sound of Eliott's breathing; in and out, in and out.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm perfectshadeof on tumblr if you want to say hi


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